


A Very Charming Christmas

by charmingoutlaws (twdsunshine)



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Christmas, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 16:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17084066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/charmingoutlaws
Summary: Gemma hosts Christmas dinner at the clubhouse and takes a moment to revel in the feeling of being surrounded by the family that are her whole world.





	A Very Charming Christmas

It wasn’t every year that the MC descended on the clubhouse en masse for Christmas.  Each member had their own families - kids, parents, old ladies - to spend the day with, quality time away from the politics and hierarchy, and the stench of stale beer that hung in the air of the bar.  But it had been a long twelve months.  Each and every one of them had been tested in some way, lives had been lost and the damn Feds were breathing down their necks making everybody tense and fraying tempers.  So, Gemma felt, it was important to remind them all what the club was really all about.  Family.

She’d been up at the crack of dawn, slaving over the stove, every surface of her kitchen covered with platters of mouthwatering food, scenting the air with cooked meats, roasting vegetables and mulling spices.  When Tara had arrived, a child on one hip, the other clutching her hand, Jax following close behind with the changing bag and a sack full of presents, she’d taken a break, crouching down to wrap her arms around her oldest over-excited grandson before pressing a velvety kiss to Thomas’ forehead.  But then it was back to the grind, putting her son and Clay to work covering dishes and ferrying them out to the car, as the doctor sought to occupy the kids for a little while longer.

Now, as she rested her hands on her hips and surveyed the scene before her, Gemma knew her hard work her been worth it.  She had a nagging pain at the base of her spine from too long spent leaning over the counter, chopping and dicing, and the balls of her feet ached, but the smiling faces and shining eyes around her were all the reward she needed.  The mountain of crispy, golden potatoes was already depleted, as were the rows upon rows of sausages, each wrapped in a layer of thinly-sliced smoked bacon.  The carcass of the turkey was visible where it had been picked to the bone, and the ham was going fast.  Steam still rose from the trays of vegetables that remained, twisting into the air and mingling with the cloud of smoke that filtered from the ends of multiple lit cigarettes and cigars.  Glasses clinked as drinks were poured, and the laughter grew steadily more raucous as the children tired of sitting and began to chase each other around the tables.  Just how Christmas should be.

At the head of the room, Clay sat, a toothy grin prominent on his face, his meaty hand resting on Jax’s shoulder as the men shared a quiet heart-to-heart.  Gemma couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen either of them look so relaxed and, when Jax pulled his stepfather in for a warm embrace, she nodded to herself in satisfaction.  She knew there’d been friction between them for a while now, bubbling beneath the surface, but the jollity of the season seemed to have eased that for the moment, and she was thankful.  Unser was sitting on Clay’s other side, a tumbler of whiskey clutched in his fingers as he stared straight ahead and pretended not to be eavesdropping on their exchange.

A short distance away, Tara was balancing Thomas on her knee, keeping a close eye as Abel frowned in concentration, his thumbs flicking back and forth on the remote he held as a toy car whizzed between people’s feet, occasionally crashing into a chair leg when he took a corner too wide.  As she watched, she chatted to Lyla, whose own kid was hunched over a computer game, paying little mind to Kenny who was babbling excitedly in his ear, already shooed away by Ellie whose nose was buried in a book.  The porn star had twisted around in her chair to sit sideways, leaning back against Opie’s broad chest as he wrapped an arm around her, holding her close.  He only seemed to be half-listening to the girls’ conversation, and Gemma wondered if he was contemplating how the hell he’d gotten here.  She was sure he thought he’d never be happy again after Donna’s brutal death, and now he was secure in a new relationship and finally learning how to be a father to the kids he’d pushed away.  Piney, positioned at the bar as usual, working his way steadily through a bottle of tequila, couldn’t stop himself from casting proud looks in his son’s direction, happy to see him settled, at least for now.

Happy and Juice were slumped on the couch, surrounded by a gaggle of crows that Gemma had deemed close enough to invite along for the festivities.  Some of the women that gravitated towards the club set her teeth on edge with their bad attitudes and self-righteous nature, but there were a handful of good girls that she made sure to nurture in case they should one day catch the eye of one of the guys and be promoted to old lady status.  One of them was the dark-haired, olive-skinned Latino that was now perched on Juice’s knee, nestling against the Puerto Rican as he offered her the joint that he’d just removed from between his lips.  He was gazing up at her with affection, though his eyes were glazed and, when Gemma glanced back moments later, they were sharing a sweet kiss.  Maybe the start of something, she thought, but probably not.  The boy was too shy to push for what he wanted, but it’d come with time.  

Happy was still shovelling food into his mouth, pinching the scraps that remained on his plate between his fingers, making sure not to miss a single bite.  His eyes were fixed on Bobby Elvis who was putting on quite the performance a few feet away, having snuck out as soon as he was finished eating and returned clad in his trademark white jumpsuit.  It was a little tighter around his rotund stomach than usual, but he was still throwing his go-to moves as he sang along to White Christmas, drifting from the speakers behind the bar.  When the song came to an end, Happy, the cold-blooded assassin, was on his feet, giving an enthusiastic round of applause with a look of childlike enjoyment on his face, until he sank back down, mesmerised, when the older man moved seamlessly into his next number.

Chibs was huddled in the far corner, away from the worst of the noise, his phone pressed to his ear as he traded Christmas wishes with his family overseas, Fiona and his beautiful Kerrianne.  He missed them more than ever at this time of year, Gemma knew.  She couldn’t imagine being away from her boys for longer than a few days at a time and her heart went out to him, though he was laughing at something they’d said, a grin splitting his face and deepening the scars that stretched from the corners of his mouth.  His Scottish lilt was only just audible over the hum of voices in the room and she couldn’t make out what he was saying, but the warmth in his eyes reminded her of her love for every single person that surrounded her.

‘Y’alright, Gem?’  Tig had approached as she turned in a slow circle, keeping a close eye on her family, ensuring that they were all content and full and enjoying a peaceful day.  His arm crept around her shoulders to pull her into his side and he pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek, the tang of liquor on his breath as he smiled.  ‘Thanks for this.  We needed it.  S’been a hell of a year.’

‘Yeah, it has,’ she agreed.  ‘Been tough on all of you but you made it through.  And this,’ she stated, gesturing to the crowd of bodies spread around the bar area, ‘is what makes all that shit worth it.’

‘Can’t argue with that,’ Tig agreed, before fixing her with a knowing look.  ‘Have you actually eaten any of this feast you so lovingly prepared?’  She quirked an eyebrow and he took that as a no, shepherding her towards a chair at the table occupied by Tara, Ope and Lyla, and forcing her to take a seat.  ‘Don’t move.  I’m gonna fix you a plate, okay?’

Gemma sighed heavily as he moved away, set on getting the best of the leftovers for the matriarch that had brought them all together, though she had to admit that it was nice to take the weight off for a little bit, and, when Abel scurried over and crawled into her lap, she cuddled him close and let herself relax.  Her eyes drifted closed as she let the atmosphere wash over her, until a deafening crash echoed through the room, leaving behind a tense silence in its wake.

Chucky was standing in the doorway to the bar, a platter of pudding shattered at his feet, china and sweet cakey goodness spread over the floor as he glanced around, anxiety writ over his face.  ‘Oh, I-I’m sorry, Gem, I…’  His eyes sought her out amidst the crowd and she pushed herself to her feet once more, setting Abel back on the ground as she picked her way towards him and the mess that he’d made.  Hours of hard work destroyed as he tried to balance the dessert on his two good fingers and unmoving substitutes.  

‘Don’t worry about it, Chucky,’ she reassured him as her eyes raked over the damage, trying to assess whether there was anything that could be salvaged but quickly deciding that there wasn’t.  ‘It wouldn’t be a SAMCRO Christmas without a little drama, right?’

His answering grin was matched by a titter of laughter from the onlookers before they resumed their conversations, too full of dinner to give much thought to the sweet treats that had been lost.  ‘I accept that.’


End file.
